What Helps
by a thousand facets
Summary: After a disastrous mission, Spock knows the pieces of Jim need to be put back together. What he doesn't know is he's the one who has to do it. Implied K/S (it's there but I suppose you could imagine it's not.)


A/N: Okay guys here's my first Star Trek fic. I've been reading and watching and getting involved for a while but I haven't been able to get writing for some reason so this is basically me trying to test the waters a bit. I know Spock seems a bit un-Spocky, but it's 3:30am and I don't really feel like reworking the whole thing (that said it's 3:30am and I haven't proofread, just so you know.) but yeah, let me know what you thought, and enjoy!

It seemed, to Spock, at least, that there was a damsel on every planet waiting for The Great Captain Kirk to come and save her. Always her. Always distressed. And The Great Captain Kirk – well he always saved her with something akin to romance.

But not this time.

No, this time the useless damsel had saved the Captain.

Spock had never seen the logic in acting like most of these women did – hopeless and helpless. Why not try something? Why not do something? Why not logically work through the options until the one with the best chance of working presented itself?

This one had surprised him – as surprised as he could be. This one had acted, had taken what, in his mind, was far from the logical action, but was apparently equally effective.

Spock had been repressing the jump of elation he had felt upon seeing Jim breathing after the phaser fire had buzzed through the air since the moment it happened, but now that he was back in his room aboard the ship he couldn't seem to meditate it out – in fact it had seemed to evaporate, something his feelings concerning the Captain rarely did. Instead his mind kept coming back to Marie.

She had been different. The Captain's face upon seeing her on the floor was not that of a commander losing a soldier, or even a civilian – an expression Spock had seen seven different versions of and memorized them all. The Captain didn't do well with losing anyone, but he had been much more emotional at this loss. Spock, try as he might, could not figure out what is was about this woman that had left the Captain in such a state.

Spock wished, very quietly, to hear his Captain's voice, to have the man stride into his room without knocking in his casuals for an evening game of chess. Instead he was here alone, failing his meditation, and the Captain was locked in his room, likely, Spock reasoned, sitting on his bed, and refusing to speak, as he had been since the moment he discovered Marie was dead.

It was not like his Captain to lose himself like this, to become un-captainly, to put his position in jeopardy.

There was a quiet knock on the door and Spock rose in a pool of grace, mentally checking the jump of emotion that sprang in his heart and making note of where his candles were for after his visitor left – meditation needed to be done, and if he needed to go all out for it to be finished then he would.

Opening the door, Spock ignored the surprise he felt upon seeing the visitor's face, choosing instead to quirk an eyebrow. "Dr. McCoy, to what do I owe this visit?"

"Shut up, Spock." Came the gruff reply. "You know very well this is about Jim. I need to know everything that went on down on that planet."

He felt the eyebrow raise higher. "Doctor, you were with us. You saw the vast majority of events, including all of those I would deem relevant enough to mention to you regarding the Captain."

"Shut up, Spock, just tell me what the hell was going on when I was doing my medical examinations." The shorter man made like he was going to push past him and into his room, and then thought better of it.

"I don't know what you mean, Doctor. The Captain and I went out to dinner with Ms. Marie, as you are aware. We relayed all relevant informa-"

"Yes, yes, Spock. But what _happened_?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand the question."

"Dammit, Spock. How was Jim acting, was there anything unusual going on?"

"He was acting as he often does with members of the opposite gender on missions." Spock could feel himself stiffening. "I don't see how this is relevant."

"What happened afterword? Was there anything going on between them? Was Jim agitated or upset about anything at dinner?" McCoy pushed.

Spock almost sighed. "Doctor, this is not meant to be a quick visit, is it?"

McCoy's lip almost twitched. "No, Spock."

"And therefore for comfort's sake it might do well to invite you in."

"Perhaps." It definitely happened that time.

"Very well." Spock vacated the doorway, leading McCoy back into his small room, allowing himself the tiniest puff of breath out of his lungs into the space around him.

He thought he heard McCoy chuckle from behind him, but it might have just been displaced air from the movement the room was unused to.

"Very well, Doctor, what is it that you require?" Spock asked, sitting himself on a rather uncomfortable stool that kept his posture upright. He gestured to the other one.

"Well," McCoy sat, leaning himself against the wall beside him. "I need to know if there was anything out of the ordinary with Jim on this trip."

Spock hesitated for only a moment before replying, "No, Doctor. Nothing that I could see."

"What did he do after dinner?"

Back to that. "He went off with Marie." His perfect posture somehow straightened. "I was not invited. I do not know what transpired." He hesitated again for a moment before deciding this time that it was logical to trust the Doctor with this particular information. "He seemed to go on walks with Marie often, most nights in particular. On one occasion I caught them coming back together and they seemed quite…" Spock was not sure what the word was, only that remembering their faces that night made him feel more than a little bit like throwing up.

Luckily McCoy saved him.

"Content?" The man had straightened a little, looking engaged.

Spock snapped out of his memory. "No, Doctor, I was going to say pleased to be with each other." This statement was almost too emotional for Spock to get out. If the Doctor pushed him farther, he knew he would likely refuse to answer.

"I see." McCoy looked like he'd been punched. "Did he mention her often?"

"Yes, Doctor, he wanted to include her in many things. As the ambassador for her people, she –"

"It wasn't that, Spock." McCoy shook his head. "Was there anything else he did involving her?"

Spock drew his brows together briefly. "He bought her several presents, including an extremely intricate beaded necklace." A necklace, Spock knew, was in his pocket at that very moment. "Also a 1.23 months after first contact he had something crafted for her, although he wouldn't tell me what it was." Spock looked at McCoy. "Doctor, does this provide you with more clues towards whatever you are trying to do."

"God dammit." McCoy whispered. "God dammit I knew this would happen."

"Enlighten me."

"Don't you see Spock? He was in love with her."

Spock felt like he had been thrown into a vat of ice.

"Is that so, Doctor? What makes that a valid assumption? He has treated many women on many missions with similar –"

"Not like that, Spock!" McCoy was glaring at him now, obviously put off with his inability to grasp what was obvious to him. "The way he looked at her was different, the effort he put into her was different. Jim is a one-night-stand type of guy. He rarely goes out with a girl more than three times, and that's usually only if he enjoys the sex. Do you think they were having sex, Spock?"

Spock felt his eyebrow raise back up. "Given the physiological differences between the reproductive systems of humans and the Gana, any sort of sexual relationship would be not only useless, but impossible."

"Exactly, Spock. Doesn't that make sense to you? Can't you see that he was in love with her?!" McCoy was distressed, Spock noted. His voice was getting louder which meant he felt helpless.

Spock wasn't going to tolerate it.

"No, Doctor, I don't. I remain completely unconvinced by your hypothesis." He felt himself growing cold again, as he usually did around the Doctor.

"Oh my God, Spock, can't you feel anything? You don't even know what love is do you? It's not in your vocabulary! It's not in your species!"

"Doctor, it is true that I do not feel and neither does my race. We are in perfect control at all times." Spock could see the Doctor almost reacting to his dangerous tone, but nowhere near as much as he should be. His voice lowered. "This does not, however, mean the emotions do not exist."

"Bullshit, Spock. Bullshit. You feel nothing. You never feel anything. You don't know what love is, and you never will. You don't understand everything that can come with it, you have no idea everything Jim has just lost. You don't know the sorrow and the anger and the fear and the ecstasy that comes along with love. You will never know the desperation or the hopelessness or the beauty that comes with this because love is not something that you will ever begin to understand. You have no _idea_ what he had and you know even less of what he's lost! You're so stupid! You're this great big unfeeling thing that Jim trusts for God knows what reason. You don't deserve that trust, you know. You are too inhuman to be good for him." McCoy was spitting with rage, feeding Spock everything in his artillery.

"Thank you for your visit, Doctor. I trust you have the information you came for." It was a clear dismissal he was giving the other man.

McCoy stood up slowly, never breaking eye contact with Spock. "Damn right I did. At least I know what's wrong with him now. And my treatment is time. Not much else I can do for him."

"Doctor." Spock bowed his head.

"Spock."

Spock watched the Doctor walk out the door, watched the door swing shut, and then watched the unmoving door for 3.14 minutes trying to regain his composure.

It didn't work.

Love.

Jim was in love. With Marie. And now he was empty.

McCoy thought he felt nothing. McCoy thought he did not know love. Did not know ecstasy or pain or desperation. McCoy thought that with his logic at his side, he never took impulsive chances. McCoy would never suspect how often Spock acted out of impulse and came up with the logic later.

What if he was gone?

The thought made Spock freeze in all of his thoughts, made him sit down on his bed, his spine curved.

Oh.

That's what Jim was going through.

What if he was gone? What would he do?

Spock calculated the odds of each possible result of his Captain's death and then pulled himself back to one that he had deemed less likely, one he knew he would end up on. He would shut down. For an indefinite amount of time. He would find a way to bring his Captain back or he would die.

Spock hadn't even realized that he was moving until he was through the door, the thought of his Captain's death clipping at his heels. The automatic door swished shut behind him and he found his feet taking a familiar route towards long talks and chess games. A route that held a lot of something else this time.

Standing outside the familiar door, Spock repressed a flash of fear and knocked. "Captain, I need to speak with you." His voice felt gruff and unsure in his own throat, and though he knew it came out as always, he was extremely uncomfortable without the sense of surety he usually carried with himself.

There was no answer at the door, so he knocked again, this time speaking lower, the thought of the man behind the door's death finally catching up to him.

"Please, Jim, let me help."

The door slid open and standing behind it was a Jim still in his clothing from the mission, a Jim with circles under his eyes even though he hadn't missed any sleep, a Jim who was looking at him very strangely.

"Come in, Spock." The Captain croaked. Spock felt a wash of relief pass over him.

He stepped inside the Captain's familiar room and felt the door swish shut behind him. "Captain, I –"

The Captain waved his hand at Spock. "It's Jim when we're off duty, Spock. Especially today. Please. Just call me Jim."

"Jim, I wanted to say how sorry I am. I wanted to say that…" He swallowed, looked his Captain in the eyes, and forced out the words that were bouncing around inside his head, despite the emotion attached to them. This was his Captain. This was Jim. "I wanted to say that it is preferable that you are still alive. I wanted to say that I understand what you are going through. I haven't but I do love. I –"

Spock felt something he hadn't felt often in his life – stupid. The words coming out were much more emotional than he was used to.

"Spock, what do you mean you love?" Jim looked at Spock quizzically, ignoring his discomfort, ignoring how odd his words were, simply accepting them.

"You loved her." Spock said bluntly, gratefully."

For a moment Jim had a sparkle in his eye almost like he was going to laugh. "Love her? You think I was in love with her? Spock…"

"I was merely acting off of Doctor McCoy's hypothesis. I will remember not to do so in the future."

"Spock. I wasn't in love with her."

"Sir…the presents, the walks…"

"Were all part of the diplomatic mission. I cared for her as a friend, I was upset when she was killed, of course, I just –" He stopped and blushed.

"I will have to tell Doctor McCoy that he was wrong."

Kirk smiled. Actually smiled. "Of course, you go tell Bones."

"Captain." Spock hesitated. "What is it that put you into this state, so that I may ensure it is avoidable in the future?"

"Jim." Kirk corrected, "And I simply realized for a moment what it would be like if someone I did love that way had died in front of that phaser for me. If he'd pointed it somewhere first." Kirk froze.

Spock, finally understanding, walked towards his Captain, his Jim, and did something he never thought he would do.

He opened his arms.

And then Jim was inside them.


End file.
